Lunedì, 29 Marzo, 2004 | Posted by Lionel Gerkin at 21:40

I wake on a Blue Train. I look outside and the sky is red. I wear dark blue shoes and green socks. I find it hard to lift my head off the seat. I feel detached from my body.

I float high in the ceiling. John Coltrane plays in the next carriage. A dwarf dances in the corner with silver boots on his feet and tassles in his hair.

I get up off the floor. I enter the bathroom to wash my face. I don't know how I got into a blue train.

I look into the gold rimmed mirror in front of me. A red blotched face looks back. Actually, it squints back through a deep, black eye that's partly closed over.

I'm hungry. When was the last time I ate? I have no idea.

I'm hungry and I'm in a Blue Train. My face looks like hamburger meat. Head feels like a ball of lead. And I'm on a Blue Train with John Coltrane.